This is a song about "Resort"

And i'm somali so i guess i'm just tryna eat bread

And if they resort to mix-tapes, my feats'll beat 'em per cassette

On guitars no codeine in this resort we destroy

Keep your mouth close, you fucking with a dope boy

So your last resort is to eat off other niggas plates/

But whenever there's pain, that feeling forever remains

They giving pounds and that before get the money

From vespucci beach, then i might resort to felony

Lot of tough talk personas, they ain’t really built for war

For the last resort, don't show the tour, i know what i'm here for

Rapping that gabbage, attracting maggots

Who resort to wearing some little sweater jackets

So in the mean time, keep it moving or accept that

And probably i'll resort to doin' shit for cash like breaking bad,

And even though shit's trife at times, never resort to life of crime,

I'm worldwide i'm certified, pop a bottle my cali dime